Triangle
by Evilmiko21
Summary: It's the oldest conflict in history. The story of unrequited love, because he loves him, but he loves her. Drabble. Oneshot. EWE. Drarry. Inspired by Triangles by Avmin.


**AN: **This is a short Drarry drabble. Inspired by Triangles by Avmin. So credit for basically the whole idea goes that way. I mean the words are mine. But the idea is hers. So yeahh. Sorry for the shortness, and crappiness compared to my other fics. Thanks for reading though!

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><p><strong><span>TRIANGLES:<span>**

_This story has been told so many times. It is not a love story. It is a story about love, and in the beginning there was a girl in love with a boy._

It was love at first word. She grew up regaled with tales of the infant wizard that saved the world. She often fantasized, as many female children do, of dashing heroes saving the beautiful damsel in distress, and riding off into the sunset to chase after their happily ever after. Her prince charming constantly changed – blond hair like the sun one day and green eyes that night. Only to transform into a blue eyed brunet, but the scar on his forehead remained the same – a lightning bolt visible for the entire world to see. And he would love her, just as fiercely as she loved him.

The summer before she was to attend Hogwarts, her secret fantasies transformed into incessant verbal yearnings, spurned by the praise of her older brothers' and the news of the boy's deeds. Harry Potter, the youngest seeker in over a century. Harry Potter, Defeater of the Dark Lord – again. And, it was easy to see why a young girl swooned at the mention of his name. He was a sterling knight come to save the day, except he wasn't a figment of someone's imagination or a character birthed by ink and parchment. He was real. He was not other worldly, or arrogant. He was humble, and shy with an infectious smile and dancing emerald eyes. His hair was a complete, unruly mess that defied every charm known to wizarding kind. He was too skinny, and awkward. He was the utter opposite of the boy that Ginny had imagined growing up, and he was perfect.

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><p><em>And the boy came to love the girl. <em>

It wasn't love at first sight. She was just the younger sister of his best friend. Her gaze lingered too long, and she would turn tail at the sight of him. He never really thought about her, and when he did he saw flaming red hair and innocent eyes. But mostly, he saw his best friend's younger sister – too naïve in the ways of the world, too young, and too much like family.

Cho Chang, was the first girl that he fell in love with. She was foreign, with almond eyes and alabaster skin. She was elegant ebony hair flying in the wind as she gracefully raced her broomstick across the Quidditch pitch in search for the ever elusive Snitch. She was older, and in love with Cedric Diggory. And he loved her anyways. Loved her, and yearned for her. And one time, he even kissed her. But it was awkward, and sloppy, and shattered his illusion of her. He realized he never really loved her. Rather, he was in love with an idea that he would never really be able to put into words.

He doesn't know when he started seeing Ginny. Actually seeing her, instead of just another head of fiery locks. He doesn't know when he realized that Ginny was Ron's sister- as in a girl, a female, the opposite gender, and very attractive. He doesn't know when she became Ginny instead of Ron's Little Sister, or when he fell in love with her. He just knows that he did, and that he gave her his heart - completely.

And they dated, and held hands, and kissed. And Harry was happy.

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><p><em>While another boy feigned hate and disgust, but secretly loved the boy who fell in love with a girl. <em>

He didn't believe in love at first sight. Because he didn't fall in love at first sight. He saw messy ebony hair, and startling emerald eyes, and he wanted to be friends. He wanted to befriend this boy his age, standing beside him getting measured for his robes. That's all he wanted. He would find out later about the scar that marked the boy in the robe shop as special, and he would find out later the feeling of utter disappointment when the boy would reject his offer of friendship.

He didn't fall in love with the boy, until their 6th year. But he knew the repercussions of such feelings, he knew the boundaries that scarred his life, and that he could never be with him. Because he was Dark, marred arm, and prejudiced. Because Harry was light, Scarred head, and destined for greatness. And the two were never meant to be one.

So he watched him from a distance, from the opposite end of a War that raged on and on – like wildfire with no end in sight, and only a desperate hope that not many more loved ones would be lost. He watched, cool and detached, masking the fervent emotions that consumed him. Emotions like despair, and anguish. Helplessness, and fear. Emotions like love, and rejection, and the carnal desire to keep holding onto Harry – so tightly that it most likely hurt the other boy – and the human instinct to survive and stay loyal to family.

And when the War ended, and all the dust had settled, and the only thing remaining were broken hearts and shattered dreams alongside the dead, dying, and injured Draco continued to love the boy. Not because of his bravery, or because he saved the Wizarding World. Harry was so much more than what he seemed. He was a dazzling pair of the clearest emeralds, white teeth in a face splitting grin. And Draco wanted to know everything about him. Everything and more.

So he continued to love and watch the boy, even though he knew Harry would never give him a chance a friendship. Not after everything that had happened, and despite that Draco was happy. Because Harry was safe, and alive, and happy.

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><p><em>In time, the girl fell out of love with the boy. <em>

It was strange. Waking up one day, and realizing that you aren't in love with the man that the world proclaimed as your soul mate. The words of the Daily Prophet waxed poetic about her relationship with The Boy Who Lived. Tales spun out of the fabric that children's tales are woven with. With words like forever, and always, and of course happily ever after printed in bold, italicized, and underlined. And Ginny realized that those words didn't reflect her relationship with The Boy Wonder. That the fairytale that the reporters fabricated was easily broken like a spider's glistening web.

So she did what she thought she would never do. She broke up with him, her words ringing with such finality that there was absolutely no room for argument. And she knew that he wouldn't argue. For how could he when she noticed his eyes wander? How could he argue when they both knew that she didn't catch his eye, and he wasn't her knight in shining armour?

She packed her bags the same night as her morning revelation, and left. She moved into a small flat, comfortable for one. Eventually she found a man that loved her, and she loved him back. It was the most amazing feeling. Nothing like she ever felt for Harry. Those feelings paled in comparison. But most importantly, she was happy. And life was perfect.

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><p><em>And the boy admitted he never really loved the girl. <em>

Harry knew a long time ago, that while once upon a time he had been in love with Ginny, he had fallen out of love with her too. Around the time when late night escapades led to scars and regrets, and blond hair seemed white in the moonlight. Around the time when Harry realized just how tightly someone could hold you, so tightly it hurt.

So when Ginny told him that she was leaving, Harry supposed he should've felt surprised. He should've felt desperate to keep her, and anguish clawing at his insides. He supposed those would be the words the Prophet would use when describing their break up once word got out. But Harry didn't feel any of those things. He felt a calm acceptance wash over him instead. Because Ginny noticed the way his eyes lingered on men, specifically blonds with pointed features. Because Ginny as a friend was easier and more natural than Ginny as a lover. And he hadn't loved her romantically in years.

And Ginny knew this, knew all of it, and accepted it. Encouraged Harry to finally go against what everyone wanted for him, and finally go after what he wanted for himself. So he did.

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><p><em>While the other boy continued to love the boy despite trying his damndest not to. <em>

Draco had hoped that his feelings would fade with time. That he would be able to marry, and love his wife the way he was supposed to. And create children, and continue the Malfoy line. Draco hoped that he would forget about Harry Potter, and move on. If Draco could learn to stop loving the bloody boy who lived, his life would be so much easier.

But Harry had to come rushing up to him, gushing words that Draco had only dreamt of hearing. And those words hurt. They hurt so much. Because they were the words that Draco had dreamt countlessly of. Words that Draco whispered into the air in hopes that the other boy would get his message.

"I love you," the words had come breathlessly. Harry's cheeks tinged pink. "I have for a while now."

Draco could only think about Ginny. About little Potters running around, and creating chaos. About home cooked meals, and presents under a tree. And he watched those images disappear, as Harry offered his hand to the other man. A symbol of friendship, and new beginnings.

"Idiot Gryffindor." And Draco accepted the offer, because he knew how much rejection hurt

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading this!<strong>


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